Page 131 of Through the Flames
On the way in, I’d already caught three stares too many. Mrs. Jenkins from the church had squinted at me like she was still standing at the pulpit, judging my soul.
Two guys by the truck bed muttered something I couldn’t hear, but I felt their laughter punch me in the back as we walked past.
My old math teacher sat by the window with his wife, and though he didn’t say a word, his eyes slid over me like I was a headline he’d read once and filed away.
That was the worst part. Not the insults or the knowing looks. The way the entire town had decided who I was and branded me as such.
We slid into a booth near the window. He scanned the room automatically, his eyes sharp and his jaw tight, like he was cataloging threats.
Then he leaned closer. “Two minutes. Don’t move.”
It wasn’t a request. He stood and walked toward the counter with rigid shoulders, taking all the oxygen with him.
I tried to breathe and swallow the dread crawling up my throat. My fingers picked at the napkin dispenser and the ketchup bottle label peeling in the corner. Just a girl in a booth, nothing to see here.
Except peoplewereseeing me. A teenage waitress glanced at me twice before ducking her head and whispering to her coworker. At the counter, two men stopped talking mid-sentence when I shifted in my seat.
Their eyes lingered too long, sharp with recognition, dulled by contempt. One of them muttered “slut” under his breath, not even bothering to hide it. My cheeks burned and my throat constricted.
The bell over the door jingled, and I froze. Laughter followed, as familiar as a nightmare, collapsing the years between now and high school in the matter of a second.
I didn’t have to look. My body knew first. Awareness hit me like a punch in the gut, and my limbs grew rigid while my heart pounded against my rib cage.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the hometown starlet.”
My head jerked up. They were older now, but I would recognize them anywhere.
These very same eyes had followed me down hallways. Those same mouths had twisted my secret into something dirty and passed it around like a party favor.
I thought telling him meant something. God, hownaiveI used to be. It only took one night to ruin you in these parts. I let one secret slip because I believed him when he said he liked me. That he wanted to know the real me.
I told him what I liked and what I wanted, and by Monday morning, the entire locker room knew. By Tuesday, the whole school knew. By Sunday, the sermon at First Baptist might as well have had my name stamped across it.
“Flee from lust,” Pastor Reed had thundered, and the congregation had murmured their Amens.
People wouldn’t look me in the eye when the service ended. The same women who used to hug me after choir practice now guided their daughters away. Like I was contagious, like I was the devil himself wrapped in a teenage girl’s skin.
So much for Christianity, I guess.
I used to think these guys were big, strong, and handsome.
If my stomach wasn’t twisting so violently and my chest didn’t feel like it was being constricted by a rubber band, maybe I would’ve laughed. God, how wrong I’d been.
“I bet your new man doesn’t know what you’re into, does he?” Stetson jeered.
His voice carried across the room, attracting the attention of quite a few people. He always liked to put on a show and wield his so-called power, trying and failing to feel better about himself.
“Bet he’s already had the full Ella Special.”
The words hit me harder than I wanted them to.
Heat clawed up my neck, and I sat up straighter, forcing my chin high. I would not cower. The past didn’t define me. Not anymore.
“Funny,” I said, my voice clear and sharp despite my slick palms. “One bad hookup, and years later, you’re still talking about me. Guess I must’ve been unforgettable.”
The diner went quiet. Forks hung in the air as the good folks of Briar Creek, Georgia, strained their ears to catch every single word we were uttering.
For half a second, I allowed myself to believe I’d won. That I’d finally reversed the current. But instead, the silence cracked and spilled into laughter, louder and crueler than before.
